


Picturesque

by veritashopian



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, I’m calling the Elias simps out and I’m not sorry, Season One Archives Crew, dubious use of the Beholding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:47:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28785180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veritashopian/pseuds/veritashopian
Summary: For a servant to the master of voyeurs, Jonah isn’t quite prepared when the attention turns to him. The Beholding, however, is very curious to hear exactly what the archives staff think of Jonah’s old portrait.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	Picturesque

Jonah sips his cup of tea and sets it back on its saucer, his little finger extended to cushion the dish and keep it from rattling against the delicate china. His attention is split at the moment; he is currently reviewing the Institute’s quarterly budget, but two floors down he Watches as the archives staff putters away at their duties. 

As expected, no one is doing anything overtly productive. One small drawback of promoting an under qualified researcher to head archivist is that no one really knows what to  _ do  _ now if there isn’t a statement to follow up on directly. But that’s just as well, Jonah supposes. There’s no need for his staff to study the archives too closely until the time is right. 

Especially not Sasha, who Jonah Knows would have been Gertrude’s chosen successor. She’s too devious, too perceptive for his liking, and too well-liked by the others. Even if she isn’t marked, she would make an excellent avatar for the Web  _ or  _ the Eye and a formidable thorn in his side if she ever realized the things that Gertrude did in the end. 

But for now, she isn’t a threat. She’s simply stapling errant pages together and scrolling the World Wide Web on her desktop computer. Out of curiosity as much as an offering for the Eye, Jonah sets down his fountain pen and closes his own eyes to check in on Sasha’s work email through hers. 

There are a few responses from statement givers; fewer still from contacts mentioned in their accounts. But he also spies a handful of correspondences reaching out to the Institute with claims of historic supernatural occurrences. One of them, his interest piques to see, regards him personally. 

“Hey Tim,” Sasha calls out distractedly. “You remember that blogger who came by last month? The one who does the murder podcast?”

Tim, who up until that moment was trying to make a pencil stick to a ceiling tile (Jonah will have to send him some busy work through Jon,  _ anything  _ to keep him from damaging the office without actually having to give him any disciplinary action) kicks off with his rolling chair toward Sasha. “Sure do. Abel, wasn’t it? Nice hair, nice eyes, nice arse? What about them?”

Sasha and Jonah both roll their eyes. “Yes to all,” Sasha replies. “Well, they’ve apparently released our episode. I’ve got a dozen emails here asking about the ‘real’ story behind Jonah Magnus’s disappearance.”

In the privacy of his office, Jonah smirks. No one alive knows the  _ real  _ story, save for himself and possibly Peter Lukas. This isn’t the first time there have been inquiries about his disappearance, the lack of a body lending a grim sort of history to his Institute that the ghost hunters simply  _ love  _ to go on about. Some of them have gotten closer to the mark than they will ever realize, but no one ever suspects the truth. How could they, blissfully ignorant as they tend to be?

Tim makes it over to Sasha’s desk and looks over her shoulder. “Damn,” he says with a low whistle. “I’ve never seen that picture before. Are we sure that’s the same old coot from the portrait in Elias’s office?”

Jonah frowns and refocuses his attention. The image on the screen is indeed a younger portrait of his, commissioned by his mother upon his graduation from university. It is very curious indeed to see it digitized in this format, as he knows that the original is in storage, and has been for a fair few decades. 

Through Sasha, he sees Tim press two fingers to his lips and drags them over the screen like the lingering caress of a lover. “Not  _ half _ bad to look at, is he?”

Jonah nearly falls out of his office chair in his haste to withdraw his consciousness from the archives. Unfortunately, it seems the Eye has other plans. It senses his distress, and in its inherently voyeuristic nature insists on forcing him to witness this. Jonah feels his mind opening to every eye, every monitor in the lower level office space in an inescapable torrent of perspective. 

Jon, the only archival staff member who Jonah can stolidly rely on to keep a professional demeanor, wanders over to see what Tim’s making a fuss about. His eyes bob in a perfunctory scan as Jonah watches _ ,  _ embarrassment swirling with the betrayal he feels. 

“I suppose not,” Jon says, already walking away. “Although I feel it’s somewhat inappropriate to speak that way of the dead.”

“Oh come on, boss!” Tim grins at his back, waggling his eyebrows. “You can’t tell me that whole buttoned-up Victorian thing doesn’t get you hot under the collar. Remember that time we watched  _ Pride and- _ ?”

“ _ Tim,”  _ Jon hisses, blushing, and Jonah forces himself to unclench the fingers currently viced around his own wrist. His nails leave crescents in their wake, fleeting but painful all the same. 

Martin arrives next, juggling several mugs of tea. “ _ Pride and Prejudice _ ? Jon, you told me you hadn’t seen that one!”

“I said I hadn’t  _ read  _ it. I’d already read two other Austens- that was more than enough,” Jon protests. He takes a mug with a soft nod of thanks. “Anyway, Tim is just being an arse. Jonah Magnus is hardly Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

Jonah takes a moment to Know what this Mr. Darcy looks like and is immediately conflicted. He finds his original body much more handsome, personally. He might not have gotten to choose that body, but there was certainly nothing wrong with it. 

Tim gives an affronted gasp, seemingly of a similar opinion. “Well, not everyone gets the hair and makeup detail required to star opposite  _ Kiera Knightly,  _ Jon.”

“Not what I meant,” Jon grumbles. He blessedly flees the scene with his tea, slamming his office door closed behind him. 

Jonah heaves a sigh of relief. Hopefully, with all of the excitement over, the Eye will grant him a reprieve from this humiliation. 

… or Tim will commandeer the computer mouse and start printing out a color copy of Jonah’s portrait. 

“You,” the assistant tells the copy loudly, “are staying with me at my desk. You make much more lovely company than any of this lot.”

Martin and Sasha pull faces at one another. “That’s gross, Tim,” Sasha complains. “You can’t just moon over him all day.”

“Watch me,” Tim counters. He clears a space on his desk and tapes the copy down flat. From the paper’s printed eyes, Jonah is afforded a direct view up Tim’s nose.

Jonah shudders. Absolutely not. He has to put a stop to this at once, or risk losing all of his dignity and his sanity in one fell swoop. 

He presses his intercom button. “Rosie, please inform Tim Stoker in the archives that I have a situation out in Cambridge that needs his immediate attention.”

“Right away, Mr. Bouchard.”

“Thank you, Rosie.” Jonah pushes his chair back and stands, picking up his empty teacup as he goes. He doesn’t know  _ how  _ he’s going to survive going to the break room to make more, but he’ll have to. Then he can safely tear that paper apart and get back to work. Those budget spreadsheets aren’t going to balance themselves, after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> I want to make it clear that Tim is definitely fucking with all of them and would never in a million years actually simp over a Tory. I wrote this just because I know that Jonah would hate it and he deserves to be upset


End file.
